


Endless Romantic Stories (You Never Could Control Me)

by chaosandcosmos



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosandcosmos/pseuds/chaosandcosmos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of random Myan drabbles and ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Low Maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still really hesitant about uploading this one, especially since it's the first in this collection (which I've been really looking forward to starting as a place to keep all my nonsense together). But nonetheless, I want to dedicate it to insanelycrazymad, since we share the same birthday (Dec 4) and love Myan I had promised to have it uploaded for her by then. Boy, did I fail to deliver. Please forgive me! I hope you like it! 
> 
> I also want to mention thefrenchgarden, for being a really awesome friend and Myan headcanon partner. (Thanks for putting up with my rants about flowers!) And a huge thanks to pikapattillo24 for reading this over for me and encouraging me to upload it!
> 
> Mistakes are my own. <3
> 
> Also this was 100% inspired by Holes. Yep.

One morning, while everyone was only just arriving and getting warmed up for the day of recording they had to do, Michael noticed that Ryan's hair was still wet when he came in to work. Which was funny because they had _just_ discussed that being Michael's pet peeve last week on Off Topic. But Michael immediately forgave Ryan in that instant, because he knew the Georgian very well and nothing Ryan did was ever deliberate. 

He took a closer look and realized the man was also slightly _shivering_. 

“What's the matter, Rye-bread?” he asked curiously. He knew the temperature had reached an all time low that winter but even in the middle of December, Texas still could not garner that kind of reaction.

Ryan blushed (something which he still would vehemently deny to anyone that even dared to point it out), smoothing down his damp hair as he took a seat at his desk.

“Cold shower,” he confessed sheepishly before realizing the implication of his words. “I think my water heater's FUBAR'd,” he was quick to clarify.

Having prior experience as a plumber, Michael smirked. He hadn't really kept that occupation for long but the amount of jobs he'd had while he was working gave him all the confidence he needed to know he could help. “I can fix that,” he offered.

Ryan looked at him, half in surprise, half in relief. “Really?”

Michael nodded in earnest. It had been common knowledge to everyone for a while now, even the fans knew. However, to be fair everyone also knew that Ryan had somewhat of a dull memory, if only for mundane facts such as that. But the asshole could memorize Shakespearean soliloquies. Go figure.

Ryan beamed as he opened the file he'd been previously editing. “Real life Mario, through and through.”

Michael scowled playfully and held up his forearms, showcasing his tattoos. “I actually consider myself Link, fuck you very much.”

A mischievous glance was shot his way as the younger got up from the sofa to approach his own desk. “So, can I be Ganondorf?” Ryan countered just as jokingly.

“Ganondork, more like,” Michael snickered, his amusement only growing more once he caught the other's defeated stare and the others roared around them.

xx

That evening, Michael showed up at Ryan's home, utility belt and all. Not that he had doubted it in the first place, but once he was there Ryan finally realized that Michael did know what he was doing and had volunteered his time seriously.

When he came up from the basement a mere forty minutes later and successfully drew the hot water, Ryan had no idea how to thank him.

He took out his wallet to grab some cash but Michael stopped him, shaking his head. “I don't want your money,” he scoffed. 

Ryan was honestly confused. “Um, no offense, but this is starting to sound like a bad porno...”

Michael couldn't contain his laughter at that. If he was being honest, he had to agree. “Got any beers?” he barely managed to get out.

Truthfully, Ryan wasn't really fond of drinking but in that moment he sort of wished he had some liquor in stock to oblige. “Raincheck?” he suggested, his eyes expressing his regret.

“Sure,” acquiesced Michael, paying no mind to the unsaid apology. “I brought my car anyway.”

As soon as Michael was about to leave, Ryan stopped him before he could. “Hey, Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Michael shrugged it off coolly, “Anytime.”

And he meant it.

xx

A week or so later Ryan stumbled through the office door, unusually late. As soon as he sat down he apologized profusely to Geoff, who of course just waved it away nonchalantly.

“At least you were polite enough to show up,” he bit out, glaring at Jack's empty chair. 

Chuckling at the totally not subtle dig, Michael looked at Ryan over the monitors questioningly. Ryan's face scrunched up in frustration as an answer.

“My alarm clock didn't go off because literally half of my house is powerless,” he grumbled, the glare of his computer screen emphasizing his cornflower blue eyes and the ire inside them.

“Why didn't you just use your cell phone, you dope?” Gavin butt in, as if that was the obvious solution. “I mean, who even uses alarm clocks nowadays?” he pondered aloud, abandoning the ribbing to legitimately research his own question.

“I _would've_ had I known that several of my outlets were going to fucking die on me last night.”

Michael raised his brows, amused. “So you didn't call an electrician yet?”

Ryan shook his head. “I was too busy running around to do anything.”

“Well, you don't need to,” Michael chirped blithely, “I can fix that.”

xx

“Is there anything you _don't_ know how to do?” Ryan asked Michael the same afternoon, gazing at the other man, both grateful and impressed. 

“Guess I'm a Michael of all trades,” he grinned. “Honestly, though, I knew it was a problem with the breaker. Most people don't realize, but electricity surges and stuff tend to stem from there a lot.”

“Well,” Ryan conceded, “now I know.”

“And knowing's half the battle?”

They both laughed in unison. “Exactly.”

xx

Merely a couple days after he solved the breaker problem, Michael was actually _asked_ by Ryan to help him with another matter: a clogged sink.

That's when he started to become somewhat suspicious that something else was going on. The first couple of incidents, sure, were things people usually wouldn't know how to deal with without consulting a professional. But a clogged sink?

Ryan was capable of building robots and fighting with difficult software...Michael knew they were completely separate things, but he highly doubted the man was that clueless about common plumbing issues. Nevertheless, he didn't say anything and went to Ryan's house once again, with everything he needed.

The job was resolved within fifteen minutes.

“Now, really Michael, how can I repay you?” Ryan asked sincerely, once they'd finished their coffees. Michael had stayed an extra two hours because they'd gotten so distracted with Paper Mario. 

Michael smiled, with all of the information he knew. “How about those beers?” 

Ryan hesitated slightly. “I'm not much of drinker...”

“I can fix that.”

Those dimples could be rather devilish, Ryan thought.

//

It was around 2 AM that night when the two stumbled out of the Uber that Michael had summoned. They'd stayed out later than they'd originally intended but he wasn't exactly smashed and neither was Ryan; if he had to say, they'd achieved a 'nice' drunkenness.

It was cool, hanging out on a weekend that didn't require filming or travel. Just Team Crazy Mad, throwing back a few brewskis. All Ryan ever drank was Diet friggin' Coke, Michael thought there needed to be a change.

He walked Ryan to his door, just in case the alcohol decided to kick him in the ass one last time before either retired to bed. But he made it safely up the step and Michael turned to go before he was urged back around by a hand on his jacket, whether the hand was intended to be persuasive or to steady an intoxicated stance, he wasn't entirely certain.

“Hey, wait,” said Ryan, leaning against his door. He was only slurring a little bit, Michael noted proudly. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” Michael laughed. Ryan's hand let go and finally went back to his side. “You should go inside now,” he suggested helpfully.

Ryan nodded but continued to stay there. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Dude, you did. Like a hundred fucking times. It's cool!” insisted the younger, glancing back at the driver, who was currently drumming along to AC/DC and didn't really seem to care about being kept waiting.

“Yes but...” he trailed off. Michael, suddenly sobered with concern, was about to ask about his condition but was cut off before he could even begin. He felt large gentle hands on his jaw and soft lips on his cheek for only a second before they were gone again. “Not like _that_ ,” Ryan finished, uncharacteristically timid.

It took approximately ten seconds for Michael to process that he had been right about his inklings. Ryan had just wanted him around, and, in all fairness, Michael understood because he wanted to be around Ryan just as much. 

“Clogged sink, my ass,” he smirked to himself before grasping the other's shirt and pulling him in, making damn sure it wasn't a chaste kiss on the fucking cheek this time.

They both responded in kind, Michael taking control for the most part. By the time they parted, they were both in acute shock but they were also equally glad, if not also a little shy.

“I, uh, I've never done this before,” Ryan admitted bashfully, reaching in his pocket for his house keys.

Michael waved the Uber off. 

“I can fix that,” he grinned, taking Ryan's collar in his grip and kissing him again.


	2. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael talks in his sleep. Ryan finds this incredibly endearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! It's literally been a year since I last published anything and suffice to say, I'm pretty rusty. I'm super nervous about this, although I loved the plot, this might be a little / a lot OOC. Also I am trash when it comes to titles sooo Zayn Malik reference it is. Anyway precursory warning: FLUFFY AF.

Michael talks in his sleep.

Ryan finds this incredibly endearing. It’s not consistent, there will be nights when all Ryan will be able to hear is snoring. But when the younger man does let words slip, it’s   
usually nonsense that amuses Ryan.

For instance, he had been tossing and turning a few weekends ago when Michael let out a sudden and quiet: “They’re stealing our tacos.” His face, although peaceful in slumber, also wore a milder form of conviction with which conscious Michael always spoke. The Georgian had to stifle his giggles. In the following morning, he had no problem relaying all of this to Michael, who merely grinned at his own antics. “Man, I fucked those guys _up_ ,” he boasted, remembering the dream he’d been having, “nobody messes with my tacos.”

Michael also tends to murmur incoherently, although it usually only occurs on the nights he has a nightmare. When he starts muttering broken syllables, Ryan will wake him up as gently as he can and stroke the inner part of his hand until he goes back to sleep. 

However, the most common occurrence is the younger’s stringing of random words together. Ryan, to this day, still has no idea what the connection is between “banana” and “computer” but to be fair, Michael doesn't know either.

One night, Ryan sneaks into bed after a late evening stream runs longer than anticipated. As soon as he gets comfortable enough to doze off, he feels Michael turning towards him instinctively.

“…Marry me.”

He automatically freezes. He has no doubt that Michael is dead asleep but the seriousness of his voice makes him second guess that fact. He glances behind him and there is Michael, snoring intermittently and wholly unresponsive. After that, Ryan tries to drift off again but finds himself wondering what the younger man could possibly be dreaming about.

The next day, Ryan decides to ask as the two are making coffee and about to begin their day.

“So,” remarks Ryan as casually as he can, “what were dreaming about last night?”

Michael pours a cup of java for himself and chuckles. “What’d I say now?”

“Um, actually, you kinda… _proposed_.”

Hazel eyes swiftly meet blue and Michael laughs incredulously. “Really?”

Ryan joins him in laughter. “Is there somebody I need to be jealous of?” he queries jokingly.

Michael rolls his eyes playfully. “Of course not, dweeb.” He gulps down his coffee and pecks Ryan on the lips. “Now come on, let’s go kick some FunHaus ass.”

The work day passes by relatively fast. There’s only three of them in the office but since Geoff has a million meetings, it’s essentially only the two of them. Ryan _annihilates_ FunHaus in a few short rounds of Dead by Daylight and Michael’s never had more fun in a game he isn’t even _playing_. Afterwards, they shoot a little segment for VR the Champions and even manage to record a two-part Play Pals before 5 o’clock rolls around.

And although their schedule isn’t drastically different, a lot of the time it’s either Michael that stays late as a guest on the RT Podcast or Ryan that does, usually to help the CRWBY with motion capture tech. Today, it’s the latter, but Ryan isn’t needed for very long. It’s about 6 when he finally heads home.

Much to his surprise, the house is disturbingly silent upon his arrival. “Michael?” he calls out.

Nothing. Ryan pads up the stairs and into their bedroom; his boyfriend is very prone to pre-supper naps and he figures that it’s an appropriate place to look. But he’s wrong and there’s no sign of the other man anywhere. But, something on Ryan’s pillow catches his eye.

It’s a silver band. Hesitantly, he picks it up and it feels weighty, smooth against his fingers. He then notices the small indents inside. It’s engraved? “What—”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” interrupts a familiar voice behind him. The older man spins around and there is Michael in the doorway, eyes sparkling with mischief but somehow also uncharacteristically glossed over in nervousness. “When I proposed,” he clarifies, watching Ryan’s confusion slowly transition into shock. “I wasn’t sleeping. I used that as an excuse to see how you’d react.”

Ryan has difficulty forming any words – it’s almost like he’s flubbing them even before they can come out. “So, you, uh, so you mean to—?”

“Yeah,” answers the lad. His nervousness is palpable – he’s behaving so unlike himself that it was obvious; deep breaths, fidgeting hands. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while… And I know you like to listen to me talk in my sleep so I just thought I’d throw it out there and see what happened…”

Ryan blushes, even though Michael’s known since the first time Ryan mentioned it, it still makes him feel a little like a creep when it’s acknowledged out loud. 

“Sooo… _James Ryan Haywood_ ,” begins Michael, moving closer to stand directly in front of the Georgian, “I know it might feel like it’s way too soon, but you’ve given me—”

“Yes.”

“—the best year of my life. What?” Michael blinks in disbelief. “Yes?”

Ryan nods slowly, a smile forming on his lips. “Yes.”

Michael beams, extremely happy but also supremely relieved. He motions to the ring bashfully. “Can I...?”

Ryan hands the band over and Michael does the “traditional” thing, slipping it on Ryan’s left ring finger. “The least I could do. I didn’t get down on one knee,” he explains coyly. 

Ryan shakes his head and gently grasps his jaw, allowing the kiss to express for him the words he is unable to produce. He is engaged. _They are engaged_. The cool piece of metal around his digit feels foreign but welcome all at once.

Michael pulls away with a sudden pout. “I had a whole speech prepared, asshole. I got through like two sentences before you so rudely interrupted.” 

Ryan just laughs and kisses him again.  
~

Later that night, Ryan lies in bed next to his now-fiancé. He feels like the luckiest man in the world when he realizes that he gets to hear “I love you” every day from Michael – both while he’s awake and when he’s fast asleep.


End file.
